Tumgik
#so tbd on how long this lasts
darehearts · 18 days
Text
good morning bbs  !  things are not looking great at work 🧍🏻‍♀️
15 notes · View notes
newvegascowboy · 1 year
Text
-
10 notes · View notes
josephslittledeputy · 11 months
Text
thinking of taking a break from far cry stuff (bc writers block wah :/) so i can let cp77 make me sad again
3 notes · View notes
sitp-recs · 2 years
Text
Idk why and how but my wireless muse has been ON FIRE this week and I can’t stop writing recs 😂🙌
14 notes · View notes
alessandramortt · 1 year
Text
Wish I had the energy to finish my wips. I had time I just. Didn't do it
2 notes · View notes
yuribrd · 2 years
Text
The wiki says the plague started in 1160, and that’s also the year Yuri was born. And Yuri was old enough to remember getting sick, and was old enough to learn to read and write at least decently well before getting sick. So... how long did the plague last? I know, especially in poorer areas, it would have clung on longer and would have effected the population more severely than in other areas. So it’s not unreasonable that the plague could have been around for years, but I’m just wondering if there’s any canon approximate length of time that it seriously effected the kingdom as a whole?
4 notes · View notes
saturnsfather · 21 days
Text
im going to have to break my own heart, i think. before she does it for me in four months. or before. who knows.
i dont think im going to stop loving her any time soon. but im going to try and let it go. were friends and thats what matters to me. i like having them in my life. but… im never going to have anything else. not what i want. not from them.
i have my soon to be husband. i have my dear friends. i have my family and the ones who im intimate with. i think i can let this one go.
its not gonna be fun. or easy. it already hurts. i think ive known it wasnt going to work from the minute my heart started aching. and its going to keep hurting. but im going to stop hoping. i never expected anything but… i need to let myself be realistic and appreciate what i do have. and not try for more than i should. i dont want to ruin what i already have from her.
if you know who this is about, i appreciate your discretion. this post will probably be gone by morning, but i doubt she’d see it even if it wasnt. thats okay. i dont expect anything. i never have. i just hope ive made this decision soon enough not to already break the things ive built.
i need to focus on my own immediate needs and loved ones. and i need to take that little kernel of hope sitting in the warmth i carry for her and let it decay.
0 notes
maeflower · 2 months
Text
i need someone to scream about m**dblind with me ahhh
0 notes
bittwitchy · 3 months
Text
ive been five seconds away from a breakdown every second since the 26th and honestly im gonna keep being five seconds from another breakdown until at least saturday
#at this point im just fuckin confused like#the contradictions the weirdness the feeling like im being set up for failure#the fact that if it does happen thats a p massive betrayal all things xonsidered bc other ppl aint gonna want me now that#i literally got broken from doing this#the other form of betrayal from things i was doing being claimed as promo reasons for others#ive been practicing this thing for the entire time and im 50/50 on if ill fuck it up again on nervousness bc i get so badly nervous#and dont want to disappont which leads to disappointing#also going crom being praised to being insulted to being bashed to learningthe same person was praising u behind ur baxk is like???#such a weird feeling like idk maybe its my tism but i dont understand#and thats making me freak out more#i already broke a tooth too from clattering out of anxiety so like i can quite literally not afford anything else#ive put off my genetic gum disease treatment too long bc of my last beoken tooth and only bejbg able to afford one#if i lose this i wont ve able to afford anything#and thinking about it makes me break down and cry#but also how am i supposed to do xyz when other lpl will yell at me if i do it#anytime untkl a week after monday nights event#but my deadline is friday#which is why its like im being set up to fail#tbd#im panicking and have been panicking and dont know whag to do and just want to die tvh#ikik how ppl feel abt that sentiment but like im sorry its true thags how i fookin feel idk jow else to put it#other than everything would be easier for me if i stopped existing#and maybe id stop disappointing people#depression cw
0 notes
manneatcr · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
work vent in the tags. Ignore if you want, I just gotta get this off my chest one last time and I know the people in my life are tired of hearing me be upset about it lol
1 note · View note
ieirism · 7 months
Text
intertwined. | preview
Tumblr media
pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader
setting: omegaverse!au, university!au
genre: angst, smut, some fluff
contains: yandere, estranged childhood friends to enemies to lovers, mentions of self-identity issues, dubious consent, obsessive behavior, loss of virginity, mutual(ish) pining, gojo is bad at expressing his feelings so he’s kinda a jerk, lovesick!gojo
summary: you just want to lose your virginity, no strings attached. how could you have known that gojo satoru is in love with you?
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
release date: tbd | ask for taglist if interested
-
“I want you to take my virginity.”
Satoru’s cocky grin wipes clean off his face. His stare goes blank and his jaw drops open comically wide. For the first time in the twenty-one years you’ve known him, Gojo Satoru is at a loss for words.
“We never have to talk again afterwards,” you add quickly, your cheeks starting to heat up in embarrassment. “This is just gonna be a one-time thing.”
Satoru is silent, expression tense as he observes you carefully. His crystal blue eyes seem to darken a few shades as he takes your hand in his. His thumb strokes once, slowly over the back of your knuckles.
“Just a one-time thing,” he repeats languidly, lips stretching into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Perhaps if you weren’t so focused on the rapid, frantic beating of your own heart, you would’ve noticed Satoru’s gaze wander—only to lock right on the clear patch stubbornly covering your neck’s scent gland. You would’ve seen the way his pupils dilate and his tongue swipes over his lips, with hunger written all over his face.
“Well then,” he all but rasps out, voice thick with desire. Without warning, he pulls your body against his with ease, trapping you in the warmth of his arms. Satoru rests his forehead against yours, letting out a groan that is too soft, too vulnerable, too intimate.
He’s so big, you realize. You can hardly believe that you once stood a whole head taller than him. Satoru towers over you, his lean frame completely dwarfing you. His large hands squeeze at your waist as he presses a barely-there, tender peck to your forehead.
You feel like you can’t breathe.
“I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into, sweetheart.”
You’ve heard stories about what he’s like in bed; it’s inevitable that as the most desired alpha on campus, he’s gotten around. You don’t expect tenderness or care; if you did, Gojo Satoru is the dead last person to approach. You’re waiting for him to start man-handling you, tearing your clothes off, chasing after the carnal pleasure that only sex can bring. You’ve prepared yourself for that.
Instead, Satoru cups your pretty face between his large hands, running his thumb along your cheekbone. His blue eyes are a swirling pool of emotions, burning with not only lust but something deeper. “Been waitin’ so long for this.” His hushed whisper falls on deaf ears as he leans in to kiss you.
You let out a surprised squeak as his lips press against yours; this isn’t how things are supposed to go. You’re not here to play romance with Satoru—yet, the slow gentle kisses he’s giving you and the gentleness with which he’s holding you are cutting it too close.
“W-Wait,” you gasp out, pulling away to catch your breath. Satoru is panting too, cheeks flushed pink as he stares at you like a man dying of thirst discovering an oasis. His hand trails down your side to rest on your waist, pulling himself forward so he can drop his head against your shoulder. “What are y—“ your words die in your throat as you feel his nose nudge against the most vulnerable part of you.
“You smell so fuckin’ good…” His groan against your neck reverberates through your entire body, shaking you to your very core. Your internal alarm flares to life, blaring loudly in warning. You can’t even pay much attention to that, though, not when—
“Y-You do, too…” The words leave you before you can even process them. You knees feel like jelly as his scent washes over you, deep, musky and addicting. Satoru stiffens against you, huffing out a short breath of frustration.
“You’re gonna kill me.” You feel it. You feel his teeth scrape against the spot your mating bond would be. Satoru knows just as well as you do that you don’t have one, and that if you had things your way, that would never change. He teases the edge of the bandage covering your scent gland, rolling it between his teeth. Your fingers curl into his shirt, tugging nervously.
“N-Not there,” you protest, stumbling over your words in panic. Satoru pauses, and for three very long seconds, neither of you move. The only thing you can hear the is the pounding of your own heartbeat, his shallow pants against your neck, and the hum of the air conditioning.
He’s close, too close—you’re terrified of what he’s capable of, only because you don’t know if you can count on your own willpower to stop him. You’re slowly going limp in his arms, becoming nothing but putty in between his fingers—you’ve never felt so weak.
You hate how he makes you feel. You’ve always hated how he makes you feel. Weak. The world has always told you that you are. You’re nothing but a little omega whose only fate is to be a strong alpha’s obedient mate. You’ve fought back, resisted, protested—yet, Gojo Satoru has always managed to put you right back in your place.
This time is no different. Once again, you find yourself at his mercy. Your stomach boils with bitterness, with anger, with hatred… with longing.
Too slowly, he pulls away from your neck, only to lock eyes with you. “Right.” Satoru’s lips quirk into a crooked grin. “This is just a one-time thing, huh?”
You recognize that smile.
It’s the one that Satoru gave when he broke his mama’s favorite vase and blamed the cat. It’s the one that Satoru gave when he stole a candy bar from the store and got caught by the cashier. It’s the one that Satoru gave when he claimed you were no more than a stranger and left you to fend for yourself through high school.
He’s lying.
Far too late, you realize you’d made a big mistake.
-
author’s note: i can’t even lie this little word vomit was just a way to get some gojo thirst off my chest. i’m not even sure if i’ll ever get around to writing a full fic because i’ve been planning this in my head for weeks and there’s so much i want to include. yet i have too little time because of uni :(
if you are interested in being part of a taglist just in case i ever actually get around to writing the full fic, just let me know in the replies.
thank you for reading this far :)
5K notes · View notes
daycourtofficial · 1 month
Text
You’re losing me
Summary: Azriel has always put his duties as spymaster above his own needs and wants. How long can you let him keep putting work over you before boiling over?
Author’s note: I am so sorry about this babes, this is pure heartbreak. Anyway angst is a new genre for me so please lmk how this goes for you (good, bad, awful - lmk)
(1k celebration masterlist 🍾)
Tumblr media
You sit in the library of your shared home, the soft cushion of your favorite armchair not providing the comfort it used to. The library was your favorite room in the house - you and Azriel spent thousands of hours in here reading independently, reading to each other, or just enjoying the silence with each other for company.
The room was beautiful- you both adored the entirety of the house, but this room drew both of you in immediately. It’s beautiful stain-glass windows creating brilliant hues of color to move about the room during the day, bringing life to the dark wood that adorns the walls of the room.
Vivid colors from the scenes in the stain glass window would dance across the floor, as if reenacting the depictions just for you two.
It’s dark now, the sun having set hours ago, and you can’t remember the last time you enjoyed the light of the room. The last time you and Azriel had enjoyed the light of the room.
The last time you and Azriel just enjoyed each other’s company without knowing he was going to leave in a matter of hours.
It was a song and dance you were familiar with by now - he’d return home from doing some work requested by Rhys, you’d make him some food, you two would snuggle or have sex, and he’d be gone by the time you woke up.
It wasn’t always like this, but the two years since the war have caused Azriel to dive headfirst into his work, accepting every scrap of work Rhysand would push his way, darting out the door like it was calling to him.
You hear the front door open, knowing who it is despite their silent entrance. Sighing, you stand up and walk out of the library, closing the door behind you.
You walked through the halls of your home, feet softly padding on the hardwood floor until you see him across the living room, still in his leathers.
It used to amuse you, when he’d return in his leathers, compared to you in your frilly nightgowns. It was quite a sight, the dark leather surrounded by the satins and cottons of your nightgowns.
Now it just furthered to prove the divide between you.
“Az, we were supposed to go to the bakery today to taste cakes.”
You hardly let him walk through the door before picking a fight, but his absence at the bakery hours ago left you ample time to stew in your negative emotions.
He runs his hand down his face, the purple and blue bruising under his eyes having grown more and more prominent over the weeks. Truthfully, you don’t want to start a fight, but you’ve let too many of these things slide in the past two years and you’re at your tipping point.
Missed dates, rescheduled dinners, missed anniversaries, cancelled trips. You had tried talking several times about it, but you need your fiancé around more than he has been. No amount of begging can make him do anything about it, though.
The most egregious of all was the continually delayed status of your wedding ceremony. You’ve had to rescind the invitations two times now, and you’re have tempted to send out fresh ones that just say “date: TBD”.
He just sighs in response, telling you, “I had to work, I had a mission.”
You sigh, knowing it was the truth. Your fiancé would never cheat on you, but he would put everyone else’s needs above his.
And above your own.
“Azriel, I really needed you today. It was important to me for you to be there.”
“It’s just a cake - pick any flavor you want. You know what I like,” he says, sitting onto the couch and taking off his boots.
“It’s not just a cake! This is your wedding too - I cannot make every decision for this. It’s supposed to be about us, not about me.”
You shake your head, exasperation bubbling to the surface, “I feel insane going to these appointments because I have a fiancé who never shows up! I swear I heard the florist say she pitied me because I pretended to be engaged!”
Azriel drags a hand down his face, “can we not do this now? I’m exhausted and want to bathe before bed.”
You huff out a laugh, as Azriel tries to move past you but you continue to follow him. “When would be a better time? You’re hardly home lately, and you leave at a moment’s notice for Rhysand.”
He whips his head at you, “it’s my job, my duty.”
You roll your eyes, “I’m pretty sure you could delegate a decent proportion of your work to the people under you that you both hand selected and trained yourself!
He sighs, exasperated, “it’s my job.”
A line you’ve heard a thousand times. You knew who he was when you began dating him, you’ve always known who he was and what he did.
But you thought his need to feel worthy would wane with time, not get worse.
“You put Rhys’s needs over mine!” You’re shouting now, something you never do, and Azriel bites back, “he’s my high lord - and yours.”
“That doesn’t mean he gets to keep you at his beck and call!” Your hands were running through your hair, unable to have the same argument again and again.
“That’s exactly what it means.”
“Oh so was it Rhys’s beck and call to push our wedding back three separate times?”
He whirls around at you, pointing, “That’s not fair and you know it.”
“Three times is not fair! It’s like you don’t even want it!”
His silence to your accusation rings through your ears. A damning, deafening silence.
You count to ten in your head, and he hasn’t made a sound, only looking at the ground.
His lack of words echo through your mind, even as his hands reach out to you, his desperate pleadings of “I-” and “baby” falling on deaf ears.
“I’m glad to see where we stand.”
You begin to turn, but stop yourself.
“When I told Nesta our wedding was delayed again, she told me if you really wanted it, really wanted me, you’d suggest we just run off and get married like Rhys and Feyre did.”
You take a shaky breath, “but you never did.”
You step back from him, unable to look him in the eye, unable to do much of anything, except retreat from your shared bedroom, softly shutting the door behind you.
Azriel stands in the now empty room, your footsteps ceasing down the hall but continuing in his mind. Every second he stands there, the further you become. He starts to move, starts to pick up his feet, his shadows urging him to go, go, go.
You can fix this, they tell him. Go, now.
His thoughts are broken up by Rhys’s voice, a smooth sound at such odds with the chaotic edges of his thoughts.
Az, I need you.
Azriel doesn’t even ask if it can wait. You’ll understand. He’s sure of it. He can fix things when he comes home. Rhys just needs him right now, he can help him out, then he can talk to you.
He scrawls a quick note on the table for you to find before retreating into his shadows.
He returns home a few hours later, his assistance speeding up Rhys’s needs. He stops to grab you your favorite flowers, a book you’ve been eyeing, and a necklace he’s had his eye on in the shop for ages.
The necklace gives him pause, as he realizes he first saw it eight months ago, its shine reminding him of your eyes.
Had it really been eight months?
He kept telling himself he was going to buy you the necklace for a special occasion, but so many have slipped by without his acknowledgment this past year.
Gods, he thinks, did he even celebrate your birthday?
Surely he hadn’t gotten that caught up in his work.
Had he?
The streets are quiet as he makes his way back to your shared home. He thinks over the past year and how he hardly saw you, and when he did, he often left not soon after seeing you.
He opens the door, the house eerily silent following your fight earlier. He deserved your silence. He couldn’t tell you how scared he was to marry you, tethering your soul to his for the rest of your lives.
You, who was so kind and so loving, shackled to him for eternity. He knew the insecurities were ridiculous, that you loved him with every part of yourself.
But that didn’t stop the self-hatred from oozing out of him every moment.
He hadn’t been there for you this past year. He had let his own need for approval overshadow your needs.
He groans, needing to find you so he can fix things. He walks through the house, not even realizing the book he’s carrying is a duplicate to the one sitting on the coffee table.
He starts really thinking, trying to remember the last time he had touched you, kissed you, held you.
Too long, he realizes, as he’s made his way through the whole house without a sign of you. A shadow wraps around his wrist, pulling him into the kitchen. He finds the note he had left earlier still on the table, but you had scrawled a second message underneath. Five words that break his resolve, forcing him to his knees. Your handwriting so clear, save for the splotched ink, wet from tears.
I wouldn’t marry me either.
1K notes · View notes
jeonsweetpea · 1 month
Text
Will It Fit? (Teaser) - NOW OUT
Tumblr media
Roommate!AU | Roommate!Jungkook x Reader
genre: fluff, smut, comedy, lil angst, slight idiots to lovers
rating: explicit
description: So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can’t exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom…
word count: tbd (currently at 5k)
warnings: size kink, JK has a big dick (no, really), slight pain kink, light choking, dirty talk, Dom!JK, flustered/shy JK at first, unprotected sex (this is fiction, we all wanna be raw-dogged by JK okay), lube, JK loves OC’s panties a LOT, fingering, mentions of masturbation, OC gets embarrassed at first but JK is sweet about it, oral sex (male & female receiving), cursing, Soft Dom!JK, more to come I’m sure.
a/n: As soon as I saw JK’s OJO face from that GCF, it kicked me into gear to write this. I’ve had this idea for SO long, but never had the motivation to finish it. I was supposed to release it last winter, so hope you’re all excited for it! 
*update: I have posted the full fic! Check my pinned. :)
Tumblr media
“[Y/N], I can hear you in there.” 
The muffled, disgruntled voice came from the other side of your door. Your eyes fluttered open and your hand stilled in your panties, your heart rate spiking. Maybe if you didn’t move a muscle, he’d go away. 
“I know you’re up,” he added. You rose up from your bed.
“Um… exactly what did you hear?” you squealed, face burning up at your terrible acting skills.
“Unlock this door.”
You didn't know what compelled you to saunter over and open the door a mere crack, but oh the sight before you was almost worth the humiliation. Jungkook was in nothing but gray sweats that sat dangerously low on his hips. He had a bad case of bedhead, but his locks looked so soft that you wanted nothing more than to grab onto them and make out with his beautiful lips, which were captivating you just as much as that intense gaze of his. 
“Hey… you…” you said with a meek smile, which he did not return.
“It’s 2 AM in the morning. I have work at 5. As hot as you sound, we either do something together so we both get satisfied or you let me get my rest because I am incredibly frustrated right now.”
Your eyes widened at his curt response. You’ve never seen him so tense, his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek as his glare bore into you. He leaned against your door frame with one arm, leaning in close enough to make you break eye contact. He tapped on the wooden frame with his index finger, awaiting your response. 
“Sorry…” 
God, you sounded absolutely pathetic. 
“Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?” Before you could respond, he let out a tsk sound and retreated back to his bedroom. You stood there in a trance until his door shut loudly, snapping you out of it. You wondered if he realized how much worse he left you than when he found you. 
Fuck, was he always this hot when mad? 
1K notes · View notes
parallelunivrses · 1 year
Text
this winter break is going to be so much more expensive than I was planning
0 notes
ja3yun · 18 days
Text
The Doll House | M.List & Intro
Tumblr media
doll!enha (hyung line) x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), dolls, mentions of possession and demons, specific warnings on individual chapters synopsis: when you're strapped for cash and an opportunity arises to help you out, you're stuck in a mansion with 4 human-like dolls who do anything but sit still. taglist: closed!! a/n: hi! so this was actually inspired by this ask and originally i was thinking of making it a long one-shot but then i was like, what if each hyung line member got their own chapter? so here we are! below is an introduction into the fic so make sure you read it before going into the chapters! they should be released every 1-2 weeks but i still have to write them so it's tbd right now.
Tumblr media
warnings: fluff, smut (mdni), subby!jake, oral (m. rec), slight throat fucking, whimpering and whining, pet names (baby doll, pup), begging.
wc: 7.7k
release date: 23rd April
synopsis: it's your first week at your new job and you make a shocking revelation that puts your world in a spin and lets you experience something you never knew was possible
Tumblr media
warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (f.rec), fingering, dom!hoon (i didn't mean this, it just happened), begging but not really, horror elements obvs
wc: 8.9k
release date: 30th April
synopsis: once you find out the dolls' secret, you're on the hunt to find out how they became this way. in the library you stumble across something and you're left alone with park sunghoon who promises to keep your rendezvous with jaeyun a secret from their owner, but not without something in return
Tumblr media
warnings: smut (mdni), fingering, seduction, fucking on a piano, pet names (good girl, sweetheart), softdom!jay, more tbd
wc: tbd
release date: 7th May (subject to change)
synopsis: your friend comes to visit you in the mansion and help out but her harsh words towards the dolls brings out a protective side, and jongseong lets you in on some secrets about the house
Tumblr media
warnings: smut (mdni), oral (m&f.rec), throat fucking, rough, kinda dom!hee, doggy, choking, pet names (baby, angel), mentions of demons, revelations and conclusion
wc: tbd
release date: 14th May (subject to change)
synopsis: with only 2 weeks left, you have formed a bond with each of the dolls, well, all of them except heeseung. as you snoop around his room to find out more about him, he gives you all the answers you're looking for and more
Tumblr media
“How long for how much?” 
"Two months, 5k, just cleaning some woman's house," Mia responds, placing the newspaper in front of you with a dramatic flourish, the ad circled in pink glitter pen.
Taking the paper from her, you wrinkle your brow and examine the advertisement with scepticism and intrigue, "Isn't it strange that she's advertising in the newspaper? Who even reads these anymore?" Upon closer inspection, you sneer and return it to Mia, your fingertips leaving light smudges on the paper, "And she didn't even put her name, just 'Ms. Kim'."
This whole situation feels odd. What employer doesn’t post an ad on the internet like a normal person? 
"She's probably ancient, Y/N. Old folks aren't exactly tech-savvy," Mia offers, attempting to rationalise the oddity.
Despite your reservations, the need for employment weighs heavily. Losing your job last month has left little time for finding a new one, and the bills certainly haven't stopped coming. £5000 for two months' work is an enticing offer, especially considering your previous job paid a fraction of that for an entire month's work.
You sigh, running a hand through your hair as you contemplate the offer. The uncertainty gnaws at you, but the allure of some financial stability is hard to ignore. Mia watches you, her expression a mixture of concern and anticipation as she awaits you to make up your mind. She could use the money too, giving her some extra cash to pay for her birthday trip in a couple of months.
"You know what?" you finally say, breaking the heavy silence that hangs between you. "Let's give it a shot. It's just two months, right? And we could really use the money."
Mia's face lights up with a grin, her enthusiasm infectious, "That's the spirit! Besides, how bad could it be? It's just cleaning."
You nod in agreement, though a lingering sense of unease tugs at the edges of your mind like a persistent itch you can't scratch. Pushing it aside, you focus on the prospect of income and the relief it would bring.
"Alright then," you say, mustering up a smile despite the nagging doubts that linger in the back of your mind. "Let's do it. But if anything feels off, we bail, deal?"
Mia nods enthusiastically, already dialling Ms. Kim’s number on her phone, her eagerness palpable as she eagerly anticipates the adventure that lies ahead.
_____
The drive to Ms. Kim's house feels never-ending, with each mile leaving the city behind and the surroundings blurring into an everlasting blur of trees and road. You check the satnav, hoping for a break from the monotony, only to see that, tragically, it still shows an hour left on the journey.
The scenery outside appears stuck in time, with the trees going past in a repeated rhythm that does little to break the spell of boredom. You peek at Mia, who sits next to you in the driver's seat, her expression conveying a similar mix of frustration and resignation.
The radio drones on in the background, a pitiful attempt to break the quiet that hangs thick in the air. You reach over and fumble with the dial, hoping to find a distraction, but each station either plays static or music you've heard a thousand times before.
“You seriously need to get a better car, Y/N. I told you we should have taken mine,” she snips at you, the journey clearly getting to her. You had run out of conversation in the first hour, discussing your non-existent love life and jobs that you have applied for. Since nothing was going on in your life, there wasn’t much to talk about.
“We said we would take mine so she would feel pity and give us more money,” you grumble, sinking into your seat in protest. If this woman has enough money to spend on random girls cleaning her house, she could have some more to throw at you as charity; you’ll take anything at this point.
The drive continues until finally, you pull up to Ms. Kim’s house. But calling it a house feels like a gross understatement; it's a mansion, a sprawling castle that looms larger than life before you. 
A long gravel path stretches out before you, leading up to the imposing sand-coloured building. The mansion seems to bask in its own magnificence, the rustic feel and unkept garden only add a sense of eeriness to your wonder.
You exchange a glance with Mia, both of you momentarily speechless. This is not what you expected when you answered the ad in the newspaper. You expected it to be big, obviously, she wasn't going to give out 5k for a studio apartment, but this is on another level of anything you could have imagined.
Mia locks the car door, unsure whether to approach the large double doors. She outstretches her hand for you to take, seeking your comfort as she takes the first steps. You both look like you’re back in your first year of high school, scared that as soon as you step foot in the place, it will swallow you whole.
“We’re supposed to clean this every day?” you ask in disbelief.
Shaking her head, Mia tries to convey a sense of confidence in her voice yet it fails, “Surely not, the travel alone is too much for someone to do every day.”
With hesitant steps, you both make your way to the entrance, your finger reaching out to press the doorbell which rings a faint familiar tune, one you’ve heard plenty yet could never place the name. For a moment, there is only silence, and you begin to wonder if anyone is home. But then, with a creak that seems to reverberate through the very foundations of the mansion, the door slowly swings open, revealing a dimly lit interior shrouded in shadow.
A woman stands in front of you, her elegant clothes and neatly styled hair give her the appearance of a 90s supermodel. She doesn't resemble the idea you had of Ms. Kim. "Y/N and Mia?" she inquires, her voice smooth and melodious, a twinkle of delight in her eyes as she tilts her head with a smile.
You share a puzzled look with Mia. This woman could not possibly be Ms. Kim. For starters, she seems way too young to be the owner of this castle; she had to be just slightly older than yourself and you can barely afford to buy a loaf of bread. The advertisement plainly said that Ms. Kim was looking for help, hinting that she was an elderly homeowner in need of assistance. Second, the decision to advertise in a newspaper rather than somewhere like Indeed does not fit the image of a 20-something.
Your mind races with questions, but before you can express your reservations, the woman motions for you to follow her into the mansion. With a shared look, you and Mia exchange a silent agreement, remembering that you promised to bail as soon as anything got weird. 
As you cross the threshold, the heavy wooden door slams behind you with a bang and you follow the mystery woman deeper into the mansion's maze halls, you can't help but feel like there's more to this situation than meets the eye.
“My name is Kim Soonyeol, Ms. Kim is probably how you know me. I am so happy you answered my ad so promptly! I was scared no one would answer it,” she explains.
Walking through the large hallways, you notice one thing that seems to be a prominent feature.
Dolls. 
Lots and lots of creepy, old-timey porcelain dolls. They line the shelves, perched on antique furniture, and seem to stare at you with unblinking eyes as you pass by. Their features are fixed, ranging from serene to sinister, each contributing to the feeling of discomfort in the air.
Mia's grip on your hand tightens, and you can feel the tension radiating from her as she whispers, "Do you think they all have cameras in their eyes?" Her words send a chill down your spine, and you can't help but entertain the unsettling thought.
The woman leading you through the mansion seems unbothered by the presence of the dolls, her demeanour calm and composed as she gestures for you to follow. But you can't shake the feeling that there's something deeply wrong about this place.
"I am going away on some business for 2 months," she begins, her voice echoing through the cavernous halls, "and I need you to clean this entire house from top to bottom as well as a few...other errands."
Her words hang in the air, and for a moment, the only sound is the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the distance. Soonyeol is ominous in her explanations, not delving any further into these ‘errands’. It's strange to you, why can’t her house stay stagnant for a month or two?
“There are a lot of rooms, Ms. Kim,” you comment, hoping she might open up and explain anything about this castle and why the fuck it is filled to the brim with porcelain dolls. It’s not exactly a young person’s hobby to collect these things - unless they’re haunted, then you know you need to take a sharp turn for the exit.
She smiles fondly, “Yes, each bedroom is designated to a precious doll of mine,” she offers as an explanation but fails to give any clarity.
“She is fucking crazy,” your friend whispers to you, her hand now gripping your arm as she walks slightly behind you, letting you take the lead in case of danger. 
As Soonyeol gestures towards a room at the end of the corridor, she announces, "And this is your room. I've made sure I at least cleaned this before I left," punctuating her statement with a chuckle. With a flourish, she opens the door, revealing a space that dwarfs your flat and the corner shop it sits above.
But your confusion quickly turns to apprehension as Soonyeol's words sink in. "Wait, what do you mean 'our room'?" you interject, trying to mask the rising unease in your voice. "Isn't this just a cleaning job?"
Soonyeol's expression shifts, her eyes widening with a hint of anger as she leans back and places a hand on her chest. "Wasn't I clear in the ad that you would be housesitting?" she retorts, her tone laced with irritation. "I cannot leave my babies here on their own. They can't fend for themselves."
A chill runs down your spine as her words sink in.,"Babies?" you repeat, your mind reeling at the implications of her statement, "What do you mean by that?"
But before you can press for answers, Soonyeol is already ushering you and Mia out of the guest bedroom and into another part of the mansion. As you step into the dining room, you're met with a sight that you can't quite put into words.
Four figures sit at the dining table, their faces with different expressions and their bodies unmoving. At first glance, they appear to be ordinary people, but then it hits you like a bolt of lightning - they're not real. They're dolls, human-like dolls arranged as if they were waiting for a meal that would never come.
A shiver runs down your spine as you exchange a horrified glance with Mia. The realisation sinks in like a stone in the pit of your stomach - this woman is not just eccentric, she's fucking unhinged. And as you stand in that surreal dining room, surrounded by figures that seem to stare back at you with empty eyes, you can't help but feel a creeping sense of dread settle over you like a suffocating fog.
Despite Mia’s step back, you move forward, looking at them in detail. They are exquisitely done, each of them with their own unique features and life-like skin. You knew dolls like this existed but not to this level of detail. They must be worth thousands of pounds, easily in the double digits.
“If you cannot stay then I will have to look for someone else,” she starts to dismiss you much to Mia’s relief; she is already mentally back in the car and screeching out. 
As Soonyeol's words hang in the air, the weight of her ultimatum settling heavily on your shoulders, Mia visibly relaxes, relief evident in her demeanour. She's already mentally back in the car, ready to screech out of this bizarre situation.
But your attention is drawn to one particular doll seated at the dining table. His eyes, although lifeless, seem to pull you in with an inexplicable allure. He's striking, meticulously detailed with dark cherry-red hair, wide lips, and a figure that exudes an almost ethereal charm, even in his simple white t-shirt. His eyes, though small, are framed by long lashes that only add to his beauty.
Before you realise what you're doing, your mouth begins to speak, surprising both you and Mia. "I can stay, sure," you hear yourself say, the words tumbling out with a sense of inevitability.
"What?" Mia's incredulous voice snaps you back to reality, her eyes wide with disbelief as she pleads with you to reconsider, "You can't up and move your life for 2 months!" she warns in a hushed tone, her concern palpable.
“I don’t exactly have anything to go back to,” you shrug, knowing that all that awaits you back in the city is unopened bills and mouldy cheese. Mia has much more to lose, a job and boyfriend aren’t exactly something you can just upchuck.
"You go home, and I'll do it," you suggest, a plan forming in your mind as you speak, "You can visit on your days off and help me out. I'll make sure you get half the money."
Mia doesn't look entirely convinced, but the thought of such a large sum of money for minimal work seems to appeal to her pragmatic side, "Will you be okay?" she asks, genuine concern etched into her features.
You consider the question carefully, a strange sense of reassurance emanating from the dolls behind you, despite their unsettling presence, "I will be. If anything happens, I'll come straight home," you assure her, your voice steadier than you feel.
Reluctantly, Mia agrees, nodding her head as she steps to the side to speak with Soonyeol and gather more information about the job. Left alone with the dolls, you can't help but steal one last glance at the cherry-red-haired figure that caught your eye earlier. But something is different this time - the smirk on his lips and the narrowed gaze in his eyes seem almost... knowing. 
Was he doing that before?
1K notes · View notes
ladyseidr · 2 years
Text
consider: despite not having had the chance to write them yet, i add will and han.nibal as permanent muses and add a NB.C’s Hann.ibal-inspired version of Clar.ice
1 note · View note